Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 444

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 444
Fire. The War of Tongues
“How many envoys from Cliffford did you say would be arriving?”
“Excluding Prince Noah and Envoy May who arrived early, approximately twenty in total. Not counting the honor guard.”
“I recall the instruction was to limit the guard admitted to the palace to five per royal delegation. Were you briefed on this?”
“Yes, yes. I was. The remaining guards will be housed in temporary quarters outside the palace.”
“Hello! I’ve just come from Prince Gin’s private chambers.”
“What is it? If you’re looking to confirm the schedule, there’s a newly updated list on that desk over there.”
“What about the Cliffford envoys?”
“Fifteen of them. They said they won’t bring all their guards. The Prince ordered us to thoroughly inspect the weapons of everyone entering the palace, so the gatekeepers will be careful at the main gate.”
“Ah, this is absolute chaos. Really.”
“Next—I need the list of Bariel officials attending the conference. I had it here somewhere, but where did it go?”
“Someone just took it. They’re sending servants to each residence, so don’t worry about it.”
“But I’m the one in charge of that. Who took it?”
“What? Oh no! I’m losing my mind. The servants must have gotten mixed up!”
Crash!
A faint order within chaos.
The servants working in the imperial palace rushed about frantically, exchanging documents, and stacks of papers toppled over in various places.
Yet the administrative division moved so frantically that no one could even clean up. Scattered papers were trampled underfoot by hurrying people. It was hardly surprising—preparations that should have taken months had to be completed in mere days.
It was a conference as important as Gin’s inauguration ceremony. A massive gathering that commanded the attention of the entire Gaia continent, bringing together Cliffford, Ruswena, Burgos, and a handful of minor powers from the north. With war damage and rifts on the agenda, the servants’ hands were correspondingly busy.
Tap tap tap!
“Make way! Move aside!”
“Good grief, it’s bedlam.”
“Berik! What are you doing here?”
“Ian sent me on an errand.”
“Argh! These incompetent mages from the Magic Ministry—how much longer are they going to keep those cloth scraps wrapped around their heads? We in the administrative division could strike and still not be enough!”
The administrative employee wailed upon seeing the documents Berik had brought from Ian, and simultaneously, Quintana’s sharp gaze flashed.
“Quiet. Do you work with your mouth?”
“N-no, ma’am.”
“I’m swamped to death, so don’t even breathe the word ‘strike.’ Anyone foolish enough to try will pay my damages down to the last coin. If you’re unhappy, go complain to the Magic Ministry! No one’s stopping you!”
Why do you think mages are mages? Their mere existence holds immense value, and each individual possesses tremendous power. It would be fair to say they hold an independent position within the Magic Ministry itself. They are irreplaceable. Unlike ordinary people who worry their position will vanish if they leave, mages need not harbor such concerns.
The employee closed his mouth and accepted the documents from Berik. Berik brushed aside the papers flying about with one hand and spoke.
“By the way, the King of Ruswena just arrived at the main gate.”
“What? Already?”
“Does that king have no sense of propriety? Why arrive so early? The Burgos envoys came at dawn yesterday, then the King of Cliffford this morning, and now Ruswena right after?”
“Someone said he must be nervous.”
“That sounds like Captain Akorella’s way of speaking.”
“Oh! How did you know?”
“Quintana! I’m submitting this without intermediate approval. Please review it immediately!”
“Hand it over here.”
Bang! Crash!
Tap-tap-tap! Bang!
Quintana adjusted her glasses and attacked the calculator with militant precision. Each time she stamped an approval, the subordinate beside her methodically transferred the documents. The atmosphere was no different from a blacksmith’s forge—only the tools in hand differed.
Berik sniffled while awaiting a response.
“Where are the Cliffopord grape harvest records from last year?”
“I gave them to you earlier?”
“That was the year before! Didn’t I ask you to break it down by month with detailed data? How am I supposed to calculate damages without averaging the last five years? Do you think I’m tapping this calculator for fun!?”
“My apologies! I’ll find it right away and bring it to you.”
“Tsk. Berik!”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Quintana, her nerves frayed from number-crunching, called out irritably. Berik, who rarely tensed, straightened his posture and lifted his head sharply.
“Take it directly to Count Ian.”
“Understood.”
“Oh, and one more thing.”
Quintana grabbed Berik as he tried to flee, spinning him around. But words wouldn’t come easily, and she merely made a groaning sound, her lips moving soundlessly. Looking at Berik’s round, simple-looking eyes, she felt the point was meaningless.
“What is it?”
“Never mind. Just go quickly.”
With a shooing gesture, Berik shuffled out of the administrative office.
Quintana, sorting through papers dizzy with numbers, recalled Prince Gin’s summons. A few nights ago, in the dead of night, just as her schedule had grown hectic.
‘Since we’re moving forward with constructing the Ministry of Magic annex immediately, it would be wise to establish accessible cash flow right away.’
Not the Minister of Magic Ian, but the Prince himself was pushing the construction forward. What kind of situation was this?
The Imperial faction would have nothing but grounds for opposition, wouldn’t they? That’s why things had dragged on so sluggishly until now. But since the Prince had given direct orders to Quintana, the project would likely come to fruition soon.
Quintana closed her eyes, gently rubbing her throbbing temples.
“Sigh.”
Where should she redirect funds for the annex construction? Given the upcoming negotiation meetings, it might be best to see if there’s room to maneuver there.
Quintana made her decision, drawing a decisive circle with her pen.
* * *
“Father!”
“Noah?”
Prince Noah spotted his father entering the main palace from afar and dashed toward him.
The King’s eyes seemed sunken from his grueling schedule, or so Noah thought. He scrutinized his father with sparkling eyes, and the King sensed something had changed in his son.
“Your Highness!”
“May!”
“Ah, Your Majesty! Welcome. My apologies.”
The King embraced the back of his much taller son’s head and gestured to May. Though hidden beneath a traditional Cliffopord hat, it was unmistakable—beneath the cloth, unfamiliar ears protruded with a soft pop. Moreover, instead of a sweet fragrance, there was an earthy scent reminiscent of a forest.
Noah laughed cheerfully, pulling his father into a tight embrace.
“…My, this is quite serious, Noah.”
“It’s manageable so far. I missed you. There’s much to discuss.”
“Let’s go inside. Not all the carriages could enter. They say they’ll only return them after inspection is complete, so it will take some time.”
“This way, Father. It’s been a while since you’ve been to the Bariel Palace, hasn’t it?”
“Yes. When you were very young. It’s the first time since then.”
The King kept his servants at a distance as he ascended the stairs leading into the main palace. Noah bounced with excitement, his movements animated and eager. May watched over him with concern.
The King closed the reception room door himself and whispered to May.
“How did this happen, May?”
“The curse has manifested. I expected it would occur soon, but I didn’t anticipate it would happen so suddenly. I apologize.”
“The imperial palace hasn’t found out?”
“Prince Gin and Count Ian know the secret, so I informed them of the situation. Nothing has leaked beyond that. Besides, Cliffford is too preoccupied with reconstruction to burden them with additional concerns.”
“Right. That’s true. If the royal family that follows me is a beast-kin, who would willingly accept it? Moreover, they have experience encountering monsters through war and the rifts. This must never be revealed. I heard last time that you received help from a Mage?”
“Yes. I requested assistance this time as well. However, it only temporarily suppresses the symptoms and carries considerable side effects. Since the Prince is still managing well and Your Majesty will arrive soon, he hasn’t taken it.”
Noah sat perfectly still, his head bobbing continuously in agreement.
Watching him like this, the King felt a faint smile escape. His body has grown, but he’s still so young. A curse and a mark of the royal house—I can neither laugh nor cry about it easily.
Knock, knock.
“Your Majesty. The carriage has passed inspection and entered. We will transfer the documents brought from Cliffford and complete the final preparations.”
“Very well. I’ll be there shortly.”
The bloody war fought with swords and shields had ceased, but now I must wage a war of far greater consequence. A war of tongues, where positions and claims become weapons.
“May. What of the imperial palace arrangements?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Just past the corridor, there is lodging and a preparation room provided for the envoy delegation. The agreement will continue for a maximum of five days, until there is a result that is ‘reasonably’ satisfactory.”
Of course, the standard for “reasonably” was Bariel. There would be a line that Bariel deemed appropriate, a point where he felt it was sufficient. Burgos and Ruswena would try their best not to exceed it, while Cliffford’s objective was to maximize gains by pulling as hard as possible.
May handed the King a report she had prepared with Noah and explained it.
“Your Majesty. And you should understand the current atmosphere in the imperial palace. It concerns the Ministry of Magic….”
May whispered softly, conveying everything to the King that they had witnessed and heard first. The wave of red armbands called a strike and the exodus of Ruswena Mages. And Ian’s position and attitude, among other things. The King’s kind-looking eyes narrowed, and soon he clicked his tongue as if troubled.
“This is problematic.”
“Therefore, shall we propose this in the conference? Since it is merely a small opinion from the Prince and myself, please tell us if there are any shortcomings when you review it, Your Majesty.”
Rustle.
King Cliffford read through May’s report as he turned down the corridor. With each line he grasped, a satisfied murmur flowed from him. Just as the King of Cliffford was about to declare they should proceed with this strategy—
At the end of the corridor, a woman with teal-colored hair appeared. Eriponi, the King of Ruswena.
“Hmph.”
The King straightened his shoulders and faced Eriponi with confidence. If they had any conscience, shouldn’t they come apologize to us immediately?
But they apparently thought that was poor strategy, for they passed by the King with their heads held just as stiffly. Even being treated as an invisible person couldn’t have been more natural.
“Now see here!”
“May. That’s enough.”
May, indignant, tried to follow and protest, but the King raised his hand to stop her. A cold chill settled over his sorrowful face.
“We need not waste our anger. Soon enough, that stiff neck will break. We need only wait to see it.”
“…I’m too frustrated, Your Majesty.”
“Heh. So am I. The heat rises all the way to my hair.”
The King patted May’s shoulder and told her to continue on their way.
Soon they arrived at the lodging. The delegation was so absorbed in preparing for negotiations that they didn’t notice the sky darkening outside the windows, only coming to their senses when summoned by an imperial palace servant.
Knock, knock.
“Pardon the intrusion. It is time to proceed to the grand conference hall.”
“Has it come to that already?”
“Yes. It’s the building right next door, so you can walk there.”
“Everyone, go. Prepare yourselves thoroughly. And Noah!”
“Yes, Father!”
“Come with me.”
The King grasped Noah’s hand firmly, as though drawing strength from the gesture. Then, following a servant, he entered the grand conference hall where negotiations would take place.
The first thing visible ahead was the Burgos Envoy. Beside Damon, whose body was marred with wounds, sat an Unknown Woman.
Is she the envoy representative? The moment the King posed this silent question, Damon opened his mouth and revealed his tongue.
“…!”
A jagged, severed edge. Not understanding what it signified, the King flinched and froze.
Seeing this, Damon grinned wickedly and closed his mouth without concern.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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